Things That Don't Matter

A quick disclaimer: While the setting is real and the character playing my friend is based on a real person in that I’ve known him from the time we were in elementary school I entirely invented his personality here and none of his lines are in any way based on anything he has ever said, done, or thought about (that I know of).

The Discussion

The grass was now a deep green, and at last the majority of trees brandished thick foliage of the pale sort that would later in the summer acquire its dark green hue. The air was warm and not yet of the season to be humid. The shadows lengthened as the evening aged. They stood in the field about 15 yards apart, tossing the Frisbee between them. He loved Frisbee. If there was one thing he valued from his time spent in the boy scouts it was the skills with a disc he’d acquired through several years spent struggling for recognition until at last he was one of the best. Then he’d quit. His friend was not quite so able, but could throw and catch well enough. His friend standing across from his was his oldest friend, from the time that he’d moved here up until now, the last remaining from the elementary years. There was something to be said for that. He had no clue what that thing was, but surely there was something. Maybe just acknowledging that there was something to be said was saying something and thus resolving the issue right there.

“You know what I hate?” he said as he released the Frisbee in his friend’s direction.

“What?”, said his friend as he caught it.

“Those stupid common sayings or phrases that don’t really mean anything.”

“Like what?”

“Like ‘there’s something to be said for that.’ If there’s something to be said then say it. It’s just one of those things people say when they know they should be able to see a deeper meaning but are too lazy to actually look for it.”

“Yeah, there’s a lot of things like that, designed to get you through a conversation without actually thinking about it.”

“People are so lazy.”

“Uh huh.”

Part two coming tomorrow! (Maybe!)

Been a while since I did one of these, and if I do say so my self, this one’s pretty good (are they ever not?). It varies a little from my normal sort of thing, but I think you’ll like it.

The Other Woman

Harold drove the small roads back to his house in an absent minded state. He had a serious situation on his hands here. He was distracted such that he paid no attention to the beautiful budding spring around him, ignored the neighbors working in their front yard who waved to him as he passed, and a few stop signs as well. He’d woken up this morning like any other, read the paper and pondered what the day held for him. His retirement left many of his days empty, the chore he dreaded most being finding an activity with which to fill the hours till evening. On this particular day, with no outstanding household projects requiring attention, he had settled down with a book, planning to read away the day. He fell asleep in the early afternoon and was awoken sometime later by his wife, Sharon.

“Get up old man. I need some things from the store. Here, I made a list because I know you don’t remember a word of what I say to you. Don’t lose it.”

He took the list, feigning mild annoyance, “Alright alright alright, I’m going.” The truth was he was glad to have something to do, though he wouldn’t let Sharon know, he knew she enjoyed playing the bossy housewife, and it was all the better if he put up resistance. It was warm enough that going outside didn’t require a coat, the air was fresh and the sun shone brightly. He got in the car and drove off to the supermarket in the center of town.

He arrived at the store, took a cart and retrieved his list as he walked through the sliding doors. He went first to the fruit section and perused the selection of apples, the list said he needed six, and no bruised ones. After locating satisfactory specimens he moved on the the deli to acquire lunch meats as the list dictated. He went through the list one by one, following instructions exactly until he reached the end. Now he had a stop of his own to make, he headed to the snack food aisle. Sharon wouldn’t approve, but he wanted chips. It was, after all, his prerogative as a man his age to eat what he liked regardless of lists and wives… as long as Sharon didn’t find out.

However, when he reached the snack food aisle, the day took a rather surprising turn. Standing there in front of the potato chip section was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. He hair was light brown and straight, it hung a little ways past her shoulders. Her body curved smoothly, occasionally coming to a sharp angle at an elbow or other joint. No feature was over-pronounced or underdeveloped. She carried herself with confidence, and stared intently at the rack of chips in front of her. The area around her seemed to shine, or maybe that was just the polished tile floor under the bright fluorescent light. Either way she was a stunning creature. She picked a bag from the rack, which happened to be his favorite brand, put it into her cart and wheeled her way in the other direction, giving him a bright, friendly smile, the genuine kind, as she passed him which he barely managed to return. His state of shock slowly faded and he found himself in front of the chips where she’d been only moments ago. He picked up a bag, the same ones that she had, and walked off to the checkout. He considered going after her, but what could he do? He was old and married, and she was young and who knows what else. So he had gone up to the counter and placed his groceries on the belt. He forgot all about using his member card, told the cashier debit and then swiped his credit card, and would have left behind one of his bags had the cashier not stopped him on his way out. He was embarrassed that the man must think him a feeble minded old fool, but it was low on his list of worries.

He sat in the car and a realization came over him, he loved this woman. And with this realization came a certain calm. He loved this woman, and nothing could come of it. It bothered him a little, but he had experience in accepting the way things were, and he drove off. His thoughts turned to home and another problem occupied his mind. What would he say to Sharon? Should he tell her? They’d been married for 35 years, she deserved to know that he was in love with another woman. But what if it just upset her, he didn’t want to do that, although he probably should have thought of that before all this. Even though he hadn’t done anything, it felt like cheating. Honesty was the best policy, he decided, he would have to tell her. But when he got home, he said nothing. He brought in the groceries, naturally he had gotten a few of the items wrong, and Sharon scolded him about the potato chips which he had forgotten to conceal.

The evening passed, they ate dinner and watched TV. He suspected that Sharon knew something was up but she didn’t say anything to him. They went to bed and lay next to each other reading, or at least she was reading. He was too distracted to read, he had to tell her, it was now or never, if he didn’t do it now then he never would, and she deserved to know.

“Sharon,” he said to get her attention.

“Hmm?” she said, not turning from her book.

“Something happened at the supermarket today.”

“What’s that, get thrown out for misbehaving?” she said in a flat voice, still deep in her book.

“No, nothing like that. It’s… I’m… I’m in love with another woman.”

At this she put her book down and rolled over to face him. “What?” she said, more curious than angry or offended.

“She was there buying chips, and I… I just fell in love with her.”

“Oh really, what’s her name?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t speak to her.”

“What was she wearing? Something with a lot of cleavage I’ll bet, you men are all the same.”

“No, it wasn’t like that.”

“Oh, it was tight jeans then wasn’t it?”

“No, I told you it wasn’t like that. She was beautiful yes, but that… that wasn’t it.”

“What was it then, her personality? I bet you saw a whole lot of that not speaking to her.”

“I don’t know what it was, I just loved… love her. And I thought you should know.”

“Oh I better watch out then, I could wake up the next morning and you’ll have run off with this woman who’s name you don’t know and I’ll be left with nothing but divorce papers. Go to sleep old man.” she said and turned out the light. But he couldn’t sleep, he was in love, and it felt great.

April Fools’! Happy “Disappointment Wednesday” everyone!

I’m somewhat reluctant to call this story “The End” because in case you hadn’t noticed, the stories about these two have all been out of order and I’ll probably revisit them again somewhere in the earlier stages of their relationship, and who knows, maybe they’ll meet again someday… I personally really like this one, it’s probably my favorite out of everything I’ve written so far. You’ll have to excuse grammatical errors for a few days because it’s 1 am and I don’t feel like revising it right now.

The End

The night was clear and warm, however the occasional breeze contained a hint of the coming chilliness of fall. The sky was awash with stars, bright and burning in the vast expanse of nothingness. The August moon hung low in the sky. The two of them sat on the bench atop the hill that overlooked the town. They sat next to each other, he had one arm around her shoulders, and his other hand placed on her thigh. She rested her head against him, they both looked out, across their town, across the hills to the night sky. They sat in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, content just to sit and enjoy the comfort of their embrace.

He couldn’t find the words to describe what he was feeling, it was unlike anything he’d experienced before. Everything was going to change, it was scary. That was it, scary. But there was excitement too, change held opportunities, yet it meant giving up the security of the status quo. He couldn’t believe it really, his stuff was all packed, tomorrow he would drive off to college, another state, new people, new life. She too left the next day, yet her education would take her across the country, thousands of miles instead of hundreds. It would be pointless for them to try to keep their relationship alive, and they both knew it. The distance was too great, and besides, who wants to be tied down in college? They hadn’t spoken about it yet, there’d been a moment, back in the winter when they told each other about their acceptance letters when they’d looked at each other and known, but not said anything, just congratulated each other and gone on. They’d spent the summer as if nothing was going to be any different, like they would be going back to high school for another year. Yet here it was, their last night together, the situation confronted them and refused to go away or be ignored.

“So, how are we going to do this?” he asked, and with that question resigned them to their fate.

“I… I don’t know,” she replied, she too had been pondering this issue. The entire evening they’d spent together had felt somehow forced and uneasy, the both of them thinking so this is it.

“Well, I guess we have two options. We can be adult about this and just agree to go our separate ways,” he said.

“Uh huh.”

“Or, we could try to have a little fun with this.”

“How so?”

“I always thought it would be fun to have one of those messy breakups. Like if we were at a point where we couldn’t stand each other, and just wanted out, rather than having this forced upon us. What do you think?”

“Okay, well, let’s try it out. Here’s a simple one: I don’t think this is working.”

“What? Am I not good enough for you?”

“No, it’s not you, it’s me.”

“Yeah right, whenever someone says that they really mean ‘It’s all you’.”

“Not true at all.”

“What is it then, what about you makes you not want to be with me?”

“I… it’s just that…”

“Well fine then, I don’t want to be with you either, we’re through,” he said, ending their first breakup.

“Ha, that wasn’t bad.”

“Yeah, it was okay, want to try another?”

“Sure, I have a good one: I’m seeing someone else”

He mocked a gasp, “No, how could you!?”

“I… I don’t know, it just sort of happened.”

“How could it just ‘happen’? I thought we had something.”

“We do, or we did.”

“Have you slept with him?”

“Well…”

“You have!?”

“Fine, I have! And he was better at it than you.”

“You whore! It’s over between us,” he said, thus ending their second breakup. They sat in silence again for another minute.

“I don’t know, I guess I don’t really want us to be mad at each other, because really, I don’t want this to be the end for us, but there’s no way it can’t be,” he said.

“Yeah, I know.”

“That’s one of the things I loved about us, we always understood each other, as much as it’s possible for members of the opposite sex to understand each other.”

“I loved that you always listened to what I had to say, or at least acted like you did.”

“Hmm, what’s that? I was zoned out there for a moment,” he said and smiled at her. “I loved that we had fun with each other.”

“Yeah, I loved that too, although I can’t say that it was always fun.”

“No, it certainly was not,” he said, and silence enveloped them as they reflected back over the time they’d spent together.

“Remember the first time we came here?” she asked. “Right after our first date, and we just sat here on this bench and talked the night away.”

“Yeah I remember it, my mom was pretty damn mad at me when I showed up at the house the next morning.”

“Yeah, mine too, I remember we couldn’t have a second date for a month because they were so mad at us. I think they still believe we had sex that night.”

“Yeah, probably. Doesn’t make much of a difference now though does it?”

“No I guess it doesn’t,” she said and they smiled at each other, and then kissed.

“That was another thing I loved about us,” he said after they had pulled away from each other. Things were quiet again for a minute, then he asked, “So do you want to keep in touch?”

“Yeah I don’t see why not. It’d be nice to still be able to talk to you, we’re both about to be thrown out into a world of strangers, having someone you know you can talk to, even if they can’t physically be there, is a comfort.”

“Yeah, I was thinking the same. It’s scary isn’t it, we’re about to leave behind almost everything that anchors us to who we are, our friends, our families, all of it.”

“Everyone does it at some point.”

“Yeah, and look at how messed up everything is.”

“Good point.”

They sat and looked out over the hills, out to everything that faced them in the all too near future. He looked at his watch, it was late and they both had to be up early to travel the next day.

“We should probably go,” he said.

“Yeah, I guess we should.”

“We brought your car didn’t we?”

“Yeah, you want a ride home?”

“No thanks actually, I was thinking I’d walk, it’s not that far.”

They sat for another minute.

“I guess this is goodbye then,” he said.

“Yeah, I guess it is.”

“So I’ll call you, or email or something, tomorrow or the day after, depending on how things go.”

“Sure,”

“Well, goodbye,” he said, and they kissed. They held it for a while, their last kiss, before he stood up and walked off down the road that led into town.

He folded his arms across his chest as he walked down the hill, it was suddenly very cold.

Story time everyone! Today we revisit our two as yet unnamed characters as they muddle through the mess that is a relationship. The thing about these stories is I’m never sure if I’m getting it right, because I’ve never been in a relationship, I need to find someone who is to be a consultant. Anyways, here’s the story:

Things I’ll Never Be

“So, you want to go see a movie tonight or something?” she asked. “I think there might be something good playing at town hall.”

“Sorry, I can’t, I’m going to one of those skating party things tonight,” he replied.

“Well, can I come along?”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

“Why not, there’ll be girls there.”

“Yeah, there’ll be girls, but not girlfriends.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means, whenever a guy brings his girlfriend along to something like this, he’s not any fun. Trust me, I’ve witnessed it first hand many times. He’s focused totally on her, and not on anything else.”

“Well, I can be different. You can totally ignore me, forget I’m your girlfriend.”

“It wouldn’t work out like that and you know it. Anyways, that’s not something I want to forget anytime soon,” he said with a smile, which he hoped would put an end to the matter.

“Why are you being like this? You never want to take me to any of these things, why?”

“Okay, you really want to know? It’s because back before we were together, when I was a lonely nobody, there were certain things I swore to myself I would never do, no matter what the circumstances, because other people doing them annoyed me so much. One of those things was that I would never be one of those guys who brings his girlfriend along everywhere, because as I said before, they get totally absorbed in each other, and even worse, all the guys without girlfriends feel even worse than they already do. Unless she’s a total bitch that is, then they feel better.”

“Okay fine, I won’t come. But now I’m curious, what were some of these other things you swore you would never do?”

“Hmm… let’s see. Oh, I swore I would never put a picture of myself kissing up on Facebook, and god forbid I should set it as my profile picture. I… I swore I would never be one of those people who make out in the hallways, or show much affection in public otherwise, those people annoy the hell out of me.”

“Hey, I was one of those people!”

“I know you were, so it’s a miracle you got me.”

“Huh, go on.”

“Well, I swore I would never profess my love for someone through a Facebook status update…”

“Hold on a minute, these all have something to do with a girl, and if I remember correctly at the time there was little to no chance of any of this even being an option for you.”

“Well it’s an option now, I was being prepared. Besides, it’s fun fantasizing about these things, it’s all some people have. It’s all I had.”

“Do you have any not related to women?”

“Not really, almost all of my big annoyances were related to this. But the most important of all of them was I swore that I would never desert my friends if I ended up with someone like you, which means not doing any of the above.”

“Nice of you.”

“I know, I’m a nice person. Also a genius, and the luckiest guy on earth to be here with you. But most importantly a genius.”

“Shut up,” she said playfully.

“Well I am, and actually right now, I’m a genius who has to go, so I’ll see you later okay?”

“Alright, I’ll see you later, you’re getting away with this one, but one of these times I’m going to force you to break your rule and take me along with you.”

“Ha, I’d like to see you try,” he said, kissed her, and left.

I don’t really know where this one came from, it’s obviously not from personal experience, I just thought of it. It’s a little cliche I guess but I think it’s still entertaining. I hope it’s still entertaining.

The Cheat

He sped down the highway, going way faster than he should. Road signs blurred in the corners of his eyes, but he could see clearer than he ever had. He had to make things right. He glanced at the clock on the dashboard, 4:21, he didn’t have that much time. He thought about what he was going to say. Shit, what the hell was he going to say? No, he knew what he had to say. Was he drunk? He couldn’t remember if he was drunk. That probably meant he was, but oh well, there were more important things at hand. The night behind him was a blur. He couldn’t remember making the decision to do this, only that the decision had been made, and that there was no questioning it now. Someone honked as he passed them on the right and he ignored them. He wasn’t sure how fast he was going, the numbers on his dashboard were blurred. Humph, numbers, he’d spent his whole goddamned life with numbers, and where had it gotten him? Here, and where was here? Nowhere.

Actually, here was Newtown, he caught a glimpse of the sign as he sped past. His exit was coming up, he made a mental note not to miss it. He tried to remember again what he was going to say, it had been clear a moment ago. He needed to say he still loved her, but how? He needed more than just “I love you.” She deserved more than just “I love you.” She deserved more than him. Maybe he should let her go. Like in those movies with wild animals, “If you love them let them go.” She was wild, but he was an animal. For her to stay with him would mean her giving up the possibility of a career, a life of her own, away from him. The thing was, he couldn’t let her go. He couldn’t live without her, the past week had made him see that.

He saw one of those green signs approaching, it might be for his exit. He squinted at it as it grew closer. The white blob slowly cleared to form a… 10. Exit 10, that was it. He pulled off. As he reached the end of the ramp he didn’t bother to stop, he just swerved right. Off to the east he could see the sun beginning to rise, a hint of light glowing above the horizon. He came to an intersection, he had to stop a moment and remember the way. It was a… right. He peeled out onto the next street.

The roads in this town were tight, and he was going far too fast, but there wasn’t anyone else out at this time. There it was, her house. Actually her parents’ house, but they spent most of their time at their vacation home in Florida. He could see her car in the driveway as he pulled in, thank god she hadn’t left yet. There were lights in some of the windows too, she must have been getting ready to leave.

He got out of the car and walked, or rather, stumbled, to the front door. He pushed hard on the doorbell. There was no response. He rang again, he couldn’t even hear any movement inside. He banged on the door.

“I know you’re here” he yelled. “Please open the door!”

A window opened above him, and she stuck her head out.

“Go away,” she said. “I don’t want to see you.”

“I’m so sorry, I love you.”

“Sorry isn’t good enough.”

“I know sorry isn’t good enough, nothing’s good enough for what I did, but it’s all I have.”

“Please go away, don’t make me call the police.”

“You’re not going to call the police.”

“What makes you so sure of that.”

“Because I know you still love me, as I love you.”

“Well there you are mistaken, now go away or I will call the police.”

“Please don’t do that. At least come down here and speak to me face to face.”

“No, I don’t want to be anywhere near you ever again.”

“Please, you have to understand. I was an idiot, a fool, I thought there was something more but there isn’t, there’s only you.”

“An idiot you are, and if I am everything, then you are going to be forever with nothing.”

“I can’t lose you, look at me, look at what a week without you has done to me. I’m a drunken mess. I never should have doubted that what we had was all there is to life, and I will never doubt again. I just can’t go on without you.”

“Well you should have thought of that before you slept with that slut from work.”

“I know that there’s nothing I can ever do that will make up for that, but please, I beg that you forgive me”

“No. Go away now. I have a plane to catch.”

“I could drive you to the airport. Let me drive you to the airport.”

“No, if you’re not gone by the time I’m ready to leave, I’m calling the police.”

He knew that there was nothing he could say or do to change her mind. He felt like sitting down on the steps and sobbing.

“Fine, I’ll go,” his voice wavered. “But know this, I’ll follow you to the ends of the earth if I have to.”

“And I’ll get a restraining order.” She said, and closed the window.

Merry Christmas everyone! Or rather, happy holidays! As promised, here is the Christmas story. This one is written in the first person, but keep in mind, it is a story, so it’s fiction… sort of.

Christmas

I still can’t sleep the night before Christmas. Of course, that probably has something to do with my aversion to sleeping at night in general now. On the average night I’m up until two in the morning, or later. Christmas sort of snuck up on me this year. The most into the spirit I got was changing my desktop background to that of a Christmas tree. I do fall asleep eventually, but not to have my head filled with visions of sugar plums, which I never understood, who dreams of sugar plums? Also, what is a sugar plum? Anyways, I dream of her, which if there is some sentient being guiding the universe, must have been some sort of a cruel joke. The one thing I want most but can’t have dangled in front of me before I have to wake up and rejoin the real world.

Waking up and rejoining the real world is made all the more unpleasant by being shaken awake by my younger sisters, who doesn’t seem to understand that it really is physically impossible for me to get out of bed now. I let them bother me a little more, and then when they’ve gone away I wait a minute and get up. It is my policy to wait five minutes after being asked repeatedly to do something before I actually do it, in the hopes that it will discourage people from asking me to do things, but so far it hasn’t. Normally in this situation I would ignore them and sleep until one or two in the afternoon, but it is Christmas, so I get up.

I come downstairs, someone’s turned the Christmas lights on and the dog is excited by the abnormal amount of activity at this time of day. The presents are all placed neatly under the tree and in stockings by the fireplace, but in about a half hour it’ll be a total mess. My parents come down and make us wait while they make coffee, and then take pictures. You know you’re a happy family when your parents annoy the hell out of you with stuff like this. My presents are pretty decent, I get some video games I wanted. Even when I do get a great present I’m not good at putting on a show of being all excited and grateful. My attitude towards everything of late is uninterest, and even if I got something I really wanted I still don’t feel like jumping around or exclaiming how great it is. “Thanks,” in a plain voice is what I feel like saying, but I know that would seem ungrateful, so I do my best at the “Oh wow!”s and “Yes it’s exactly what I wanted”s. When the excitement is over we eat breakfast, and I retreat to my room to try my hand at my new games. My friend and his family come over for dinner in the evening, and it’s now that I get a little more into the spirit. I now have someone to be cynical with me.

Christmas comes to an end at midnight with me still up at the computer, burning my eyes out staring at the screen and setting myself up for numerous stress related diseases in my fingers. But Christmas isn’t over yet. The day after my family and I travel to Buffalo to visit my extended family, my dad’s side. This I think I like more than Christmas day itself. My dad’s side of the family is a little more… energetic. I can pretend that I have one of those classic dysfunctional American families, which are much more inspirational than my own. When a relation of mine, a cousin I think, I can never keep track of those things, drinks an entire bottle of something and the evening ends with them being carried out and loaded into the trunk of an SUV, I can relate the story to others and pretend it’s an every day occurrence in that crazy family of mine. That same evening I discover that my dog is an alcoholic when my grandmother spills a glass of wine and my dog spends the next hour licking the carpet. I wonder if a dog would get all tipsy if you gave it alcohol, I’ll have to try someday. I sometimes worry that I’m a disappointment to my family in that they’re all loud and rambunctious and I’m comparatively quiet and reserved. Maybe there’s some gene that’ll kick in and make me just as noisy and excitable as they are, I sort of hope not actually. After a few days we come home, and there’s the bleak period in which there’s nothing left to look forward to and school is looming in the ever approaching future. Vacation ends, life resumes its normal cadence. Only twelve more months till Christmas.

Unlike my previous story, this one has absolutely no connection to anything I’ve ever done, I just thought it was a funny idea. Enjoy!

The Basement

The three of them sat around the table in the basement. It was one of those stereotypical basements. Cement walls, pipes hanging from the ceiling, monsters stored away in dark corners just waiting for unsuspecting little children to mindlessly wander too close. In general, the basement liked to mind its own business, it didn’t mind that it didn’t get as much usage as the other rooms. It liked the solitude. Sometimes it had interesting conversations with the furnace. But of late, it had found that a few of the houses inhabitants had taken a liking to its dark unfurnished caverns. The kids who it had terrified as small children hung out down here now, and smoked. Not just cigarettes either, it smelled horrible, and the basement wished that they would take it to the garage, where there were plenty of noxious gases already and it wouldn’t matter. Of course, the basement couldn’t say any of this, because it was a basement, what did you expect? So it was forced to put up with it.

This particular evening, the smoke hung thick in the air. There was the one that belonged to the basement, quiet looking with inconspicuous brown hair, a kid with frizzy red hair, and a cool looking blonde. The basement didn’t like the blonde much, it suspected that he was the one who had started this whole thing.

“Heeey man, you ever wonder what clouds are made of?” said the blonde.

“Yeah, I was wondering that too,” said the ginger.

“You dolts, clouds are made of water.” Said the basement’s kid, who had as yet refrained from participating in the activity at hand.

“No way man, how could water be so fluffy?” asked the blonde. The basement itself had no idea, but it trusted the knowledge of it’s own kid, and thought the blonde an idiot.

“It’s water vapor, like steam,” said the basement’s kid. “Does that stuff totally erase your mind?

“Yeah man, it’s great,” replied the blonde.

“Alright, hand it over,” said the basement’s kid, to the great disappointment of the basement. He took the weed, and took a drag. He exhaled slowly, and with him the basement sighed. Soon he would be talking nonsense like the others.

“Hey, you know who’s hot? That chick, uh what’s her name, the one with the uh, thing,” said the blonde.

“Yeah, I think I know who you mean, that one who’s always saying stuff,” said the red haired kid.

“Yeah man, she is so hot. I would do her in an instant.”

“Yeah, like you’d ever have a chance,” put in the basement’s kid. The basement agreed.

“I would so have a chance.”

“Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”

“I’d have more of a chance than you would.”

“No way, she’d totally go for me.”

“In your dreams, she’s mine.”

“Dudes, isn’t she with that Bret kid?” asked the red haired kid.

“Oh yeah, forgot about him,” said the blonde.

“Lucky bastard,” said the basement’s kid. And they all agreed.

“You know the government can read your thoughts,” said the blonde kid, as more of a statement than a question. The basement sighed again. This was the umpteenth time he’d said that, and the basement happened to think it was a load of crap, the government had better things to do with its time than reading the thoughts of a bunch of stoned teenagers, or did it?

“That’s ridiculous,” said the basement’s kid.

“Is not man, it’s true. I heard it somewhere,” said the blonde.

“Where?”

“Someone told me.”

“Who?”

“This guy.”

“Oh, a guy, that makes sense now.”

At this point the basement stopped paying attention. There was a spider weaving a web in a corner, and it watched that for a while. It wished it could set off the smoke alarm and clear them out, but they’d fiddled with it so it wouldn’t go off. The basement’s kid was good with stuff like that. The basement sighed again. It guessed it would just have to put up with this for couple more years.

This is the prequel to one of my previous stories, The Beginning of the End. I put this up at great risk of people getting the impression that I’m some emo kid who scribbles on his shoes and wears black because “that’s how I feel inside”, because there is a lot of emotion in this piece, as there is in all good writing. And yes, it is about a girl, but I bet you there isn’t a single teenage boy out there who doesn’t feel at least something like this. Just so everyone knows, the guy is me, and the girl is real, but this is exaggerated almost to the point of unrecognition, life is never interesting enough on its own, you need literature for that.

The Beginning

Every day he saw her. Every time his heart leapt into his throat. Sometimes she would come out from an adjacent hallway and he would stop in his tracks, unable to think for a moment, before shaking his head and walking on. He did a lot of walking on. He had a couple classes with her, high caliber ones at that, she wasn’t ditzy like so many others. She probably hurt his performance in those classes, but he didn’t give a damn. He didn’t give a damn about anything. Except her. He needed to do something. What the hell could he do? He was a nobody, a nothing, and she was an everything. And then there was the added complication of her boyfriend. The thought of it struck something inside of him every time.

In math class he gazed at her. He loved the way her hair shone in the bright fluorescent lighting. Sometimes she would run her hand through it, or tuck a strand away behind an ear, it would always fall back into line perfectly. She was quite adept at solving the math problems, maybe even better than he was, especially when he paid so much attention to her rather than his teacher. He sat next to his friend, and they would converse, but he would only ever be half interested in their conversation, and often as not he would talk while looking in the opposite direction, in her direction. She never noticed him, never turned around and met his gaze, which in a way was a relief. If she was to turn around and look at him he would probably glance sideways quickly and come off looking sketchy. He wished he could be calm and cool, he wished she would look at him and he could greet her with a cool confident smile. He wished he could smile like she could. Well, smile wasn’t really a strong enough word for it. More like beam, it lit up her entire face and radiated happiness throughout the whole room, especially through him. She was wonderfully liberal with that smile, and it never ceased to give him the sensation of being lifted by some invisible force, away from the classroom and the world. Just him, and her.

When it came down to hard facts though, he just couldn’t see it happening. He could imagine the two of them alone, on dates and scenes of intimacy, but in social situations he just didn’t see it working. There was no way, they were practically on opposite sides of the world, despite sitting only a few seats away from each other. His friends weren’t her friends and her friends weren’t his friends. Yet there were other times when he thought that all that wouldn’t matter, if only there were some way to first gain her affections. He imagined all sorts of scenarios that would cross their paths in a way that couldn’t be undone. Most of them were totally ridiculous, and none of them would ever happen. He should just talk to her, he told himself. That’s what people do, they talk to each other, so why can’t you talk to her? She’s nice, she’s not the type to discriminate based on social status or anything. Just talk to her. But he couldn’t, and wouldn’t. There was never the right occasion. No situation in which saying hello wouldn’t have been weird. Maybe that was all in his head, maybe he was the one who was discriminating.

He could write. He could write a letter, or a poem, or something. Maybe leave a series of such anonymous works to build her up before revealing his identity at the point where she was madly in love with whoever this mysterious admirer was. Yes, that was a good idea. He drafted such writings in his head, even wrote some of them down, but never made it to the stage of printing them out.

It hurt, to love someone and not have them love you back, not even know that you love them. But it was a good hurt, he enjoyed it really. He preferred it to not having any feelings at all. He knew that probably nothing would ever come of it, and eventually his crush would fade. But he didn’t want it to. He enjoyed it even if it never amounted to anything. He couldn’t imagine what it would be like not to love her. He tried thinking back to before he had known her, it was only a year or two, but it didn’t come to him.

It was silly, he told himself, he didn’t love her, he couldn’t love her, he hardly knew her. How could you love someone without knowing them? It was just a dumb crush. But these thoughts always felt forced, put in his head to protect him from getting too attached to something he didn’t have. He had to do something, he had to say something, anything, just anything. She wouldn’t mind. Who wouldn’t like being told that someone likes them? No, he couldn’t say something, he wouldn’t say something, he would never say anything.

Maybe I’m just bitter for lack of having one, but high schoolers in relationships annoy the hell out of me. There’s a kid I know who about two weeks ago got a “girlfriend” and his Facebook status updates were all “I love her so much”. That lasted for a number of days I could count on one hand. Then it was “I made the right decision” and everybody was writing sympathetic things on his wall. Two to three days later they were back together again, and once again it lasted 4 days max, and once again everyone was saying “Oh, if you need to talk just call me”. Jesus Christ, they were together for a total of 10 days maximum, probably less. How attached can you get to someone in that period of time? I could maybe understand if it was something that had lasted a while, like 5-6 months maybe, but 10 days? Get over yourself.

I don’t get high school relationships. They all end when you go off to college, unless you’re one of those sad people who stays in your home town bagging groceries in which case your girlfriend will probably dump you and look for someone less pathetic. So all high school relationships end. So why do people bother? I guess maybe the reason people like it is that there’s no real commitment, it’s expected that you’re going to break up, there’s no two ways about it. I don’t know about anyone else but I don’t think I’d want to stay with my high school girlfriend, no matter who she was. I’d want to go off and try other things, no one wants to be tied down right at the starting gate. Now, all this criticism of people high school relationships is a bit hypocritical, because if given the chance with um, shall we say, the right person, I would totally have one. Until then though, I remain ever the critic.

Short story I wrote about all this:

The Beginning of the End

She lay on the bed, which was a mess, and he sat in the chair by the desk at the computer. The silence was penetrated every now and then by bursts of clicking from the mouse. She picked up one of his computer magazines from the floor and flipped through it.

“What do you find so interesting about all this?” she asked after a minute.

“I don’t know, what does anyone find interesting about anything?”

“Well this, it just seems like a bunch of numbers and names that don’t make any sense.”

“It makes sense to me,” he said, and then it went quiet again, the clicking resumed. But after a few minutes he stopped, and then he spoke.

“It’ll have to end someday,” he said.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

He swiveled around to face her.

“Our relationship, it can’t go on forever.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re in high school. We’ll go off to different colleges, have different lives. Marry different people. That’s what happens. You don’t expect us to be together forever do you?”

“Oh, well thanks, it’s nice to know I mean so much to you.”

“Hey, don’t take it like that. That’s not what I meant. You mean the world to me.”

“Well how am I supposed to take it? You just said our relationship is doomed to fail.”

“Isn’t it?”

“I… I don’t know. I never thought about it much.”

“Well I do. You know me, I think about stuff, I think about us a lot, this comes up once in a while.”

“I wish it wouldn’t. Yes, all relationships end sometime, you’re just supposed to enjoy the ride. It isn’t any fun if you’re pointing out the end all the time.”

“Fine. I’m sorry I brought it up. I’ll never bother you with anything again.”

“Oh no, don’t be like that. You know I love how we talk about stuff. It’s just that there are some things better left unsaid. Things people don’t want to hear.”

“Then those people are avoiding the truth. I’m sorry but I’m always thinking about this stuff. I never stop, even when we… you know… get intimate. When others’ minds would go blank I’m still tossing it all around in my head.”

“Great, you have no faith in our relationship, and I’m bad in bed.”

“That’s not what I said at all. This is silly, we’re both just trying to one-up each other at misinterpretation. I love talking with you, I love being with you, I love you.”

There was a pause in the conversation, “I love you too,” she said. He turned back around to face the computer, but didn’t resume using it.

“How do you think it will end?” he asked.

“I honestly have no idea,” she replied.

“Do you think we’ll go quietly, or will it be one of those messy breakups?”

“I really don’t know, and I’d rather not talk about it. You act like you’re looking forward to this.”

“No, I’m not at all.”

“Then quit talking about it.”

“Fine,” he went back to the computer. “Wanna go out somewhere this weekend?”

“Can’t, I have stuff to do.”

“May I enquire as to what?”

“You may, but I may not answer you.”

“Oh.”

“I should go now,” she said. And she left.

The guy is actually mostly a self projection. I suggest that no one ever have this conversation with their girlfriend.